Chapter 6
Loyalty
"Alright, you can move," said a scratchy voice from behind the curtain. Ginger, who had been sitting completely still in the pose her father had last seen her in, threw down the mirror and leaped out of the chair. She was about to make a rush for the door, but the voice interrupted again.
"Not so fast, dearie." Ginger froze in place. "Don't worry, love. Your precious papa will be safe… for now." A young brown mouse with slanted eyes and ears too small for his head stepped out from behind the curtain. He was holding a shining dagger in his hand. Ginger turned and glared at him.
"What are they going to do with my father?" she demanded.
The mouse, who really looked a lot more like a weasel, shrugged. "Nothing for now, dearie. We still need him, after all." He put the dagger back into its holder on his belt. With the air of a prince, or merely a proud thief, he strutted to the child and put his arm around her, looming over her with his intimidating height. "Now," he hissed, "Why don't you just sit real nice on the bed and wait for the Professor to come fetch you?"
When Ginger tried to pull away, the mouse only held her tighter. "I said real **nice**. Or did you not hear me?"
"I heard you, I just don't care!" Ginger snapped. The mouse narrowed his eyes.
"Very well, lovie, if that's the way you feel about it…" He lifted the girl up and threw her onto the bed. Ginger did a somersault and landed feet-up against the wall. She scrambled back onto her feet and stared coldly at the chuckling mouse.
"My sincere apologies, Lady Hensaw," he crooned sarcastically as he flicked a switch on the wall. As soon as the switch was pulled, bars sprung from the floor, making the bed into a prison. Ginger threw herself against the bars.
"I HATE YOU!!!" she shrieked. "I hate you, Bert Feesley!!!! I hate you more than I could ever hate anything else in the whole WORLD!!!! And when I find my daddy, I'm going to tell him what you did to me and he'll…"
"He'll **what**, lovie?" Feesley grinned. "Run for the great master detective? Cry like a little girl?" He laughed cruelly. "Your daddy's no better than a traitorous slug." He turned and marched from the room.
As soon as he was gone, Ginger tore off most of her fancy costume. When she managed to get her clothing down to a corset and a pair of frilly long underwear, she easily slipped out through the bars. The temptation to follow Feesley and give him a piece of her mind (and her fist) was terrible, but there were more pressing matters at hand. Without thinking the matter over twice, Ginger disappeared behind the same curtain Feesley had been hiding behind holding a dagger to her back.
***
Auburn was brought once again before his boss. Ratigan grinned down mockingly from his throne.
"Poor Auburn. Has your lovely daughter gotten used to high society already?"
Auburn cringed under the laughter of Douglas and Alfred, but said nothing.
"Well," Ratigan continued, "I suppose you'll be taking your leave of this place now. That is what you wanted, isn't it? To go? You're free to."
But to Ratigan's surprise, Auburn shook his head. "No," he said. "I never wanted to leave. I wanted Ginger to be happy." He sighed. "You've made her happy. I'm only glad I can still be near her, even if she can't stand the sight of me. I'll just… get back to work now." Auburn turned to go, but Ratigan snapped his fingers and the way was blocked once more by Douglas and Alfred. Auburn glanced over his shoulder.
"You have proven yourself beyond my expectations, Auburn." Ratigan's eyes betrayed for once a spark of unclouded feeling, as if he almost regretted having to test his loyal assistant in such a way. But the spark lived only a moment. "You will not go unrewarded," he said, drawing himself up to his full height.
Auburn nodded weakly and brushed past the two thugs. They growled softly, but they had no command from their boss, and so remained standing where they were. Ratigan watched Auburn dejectedly push the door open and shuffle out of the room.
***
The secret passageways that ran throughout every tunnel and building Ratigan called his lair were well-known to Ginger. She had spent many hours exploring them. Now that she had escaped from her prison, it was only a matter of running. Fortunately, running was one of Ginger's best talents.
Her plan was to find her father. He would know what to do. Ginger decided to look for him in Ratigan's throne room, thinking that naturally Ratigan would want to witness firsthand what damage he had done to his servant. With her speed and knowledge of the secret tunnels, it was a matter of minutes before Ginger was approaching the entrance to the throne room. With only a little ways left to go, however, she quite literally ran into an unexpected obstacle.
Two hands grabbed her from behind as she passed a branch in the tunnel. She struggled fiercely, but the hands held tight over her mouth, so she couldn't scream.
"Hush!" the mouse snapped under his breath. "Ginger, be quiet! I'm here to help you!"
Ginger twisted around in the dark, trying to free herself from her enemy's hold. He took his hands from her mouth so she could speak.
"You'll never help me, you ugly rat!" she hissed.
"Ginger, your father…"
"What did you do with him?!" the girl demanded, finally freeing herself from the stranger's grip. She spun around and glared at him. In the darkness she could see only a tall, thin shadow. "Bert Feesley!" she gasped, backing away.
"Who?" Basil said. "Oh it doesn't matter. Come on, we've got to get you out of this place!"
"NO! My father is still here, and I'm going to find him!" She turned and started running. Basil set off in pursuit, but she was fast and got ahead of him quickly.
"Ginger!" Basil called after her. "Your father doesn't want you to live his life!" But by the time he got the words out, she was out of sight. Basil snarled a curse under his breath and scuttled back the way he had come.
Meanwhile, Ginger kept running as fast as she could. It was not until she reached a dead end that she realized she was lost. Frightened and alone, she tried to go back and retrace her steps. She only succeeded in hitting another dead end.
"Don't panic," she said to herself. "At least I got away…" She sat down in the tunnel and leaned against the wall. A candle against the wall burned above her head, casting a dim yellow light over the stone walls. The words of the strange mouse still echoed in her ears. 'Your father doesn't want you!' he had yelled. Ginger took a deep breath to calm herself.
"That can't be true," she murmured. "Why would he not want me… unless… unless he thought I meant all that stuff Bert Feesley made me say! Oh no!!" Her wide hazel eyes filled with tears. "Well there's no reason for me to find my way back now, is there? I'll just stay lost and make everybody the happier for it!"
Ginger curled up against the dank wall, surrendering herself to her own misery. But she wasn't there long before yet another strange voice came to her through the halls.
"Ginger, get up luv."
"Go away!" Ginger sobbed. "I'm not coming back!"
"Come on, sweetie, your father's waiting for you."
"No he isn't! He doesn't want me anymore! I'm a horrible, horrible person, just like Bert Feesley and the Professor!" She curled up tighter, clutching her tail. "Leave me alone!"
But the voice persisted. The woman, for it was a woman's voice, gave a bubbly, far-away laugh and said, "Your father loves you, Ginger. He loves you more than anything in the world. That's why he had Basil bring you away from here. He wants you to be happy." Ginger felt a soft hand on her shoulder. She looked around and found herself staring at what might have been a ghostly reflection of her own face, pale as chalk but with the same half-smile and round hazel eyes.
"Who are you?" Ginger asked shakily.
"My name is Argentina," said the woman. "I'm a… friend of your father. Now dry your eyes and follow me. Your father misses you."
The white mouse reached out and took Ginger's hands. She playfully lifted the child high above the ground and swung her forward. Ginger giggled with delight.
"I like you, Argentina," she said. "Will you come and be my mother?"
The white mouse swished her tail, and Ginger noticed the beautiful tuft of long white fur at the end of it. She smiled, but an expression of pain came across the woman's face.
"I cannot stay with you long," she said softly. "I have… pressing business. Elsewhere. Far away."
"Will you come back?" Ginger asked anxiously.
"I might, little one. I might."
Ginger smiled. "Oh good." She took the woman's hand and let her lead the way.
Loyalty
"Alright, you can move," said a scratchy voice from behind the curtain. Ginger, who had been sitting completely still in the pose her father had last seen her in, threw down the mirror and leaped out of the chair. She was about to make a rush for the door, but the voice interrupted again.
"Not so fast, dearie." Ginger froze in place. "Don't worry, love. Your precious papa will be safe… for now." A young brown mouse with slanted eyes and ears too small for his head stepped out from behind the curtain. He was holding a shining dagger in his hand. Ginger turned and glared at him.
"What are they going to do with my father?" she demanded.
The mouse, who really looked a lot more like a weasel, shrugged. "Nothing for now, dearie. We still need him, after all." He put the dagger back into its holder on his belt. With the air of a prince, or merely a proud thief, he strutted to the child and put his arm around her, looming over her with his intimidating height. "Now," he hissed, "Why don't you just sit real nice on the bed and wait for the Professor to come fetch you?"
When Ginger tried to pull away, the mouse only held her tighter. "I said real **nice**. Or did you not hear me?"
"I heard you, I just don't care!" Ginger snapped. The mouse narrowed his eyes.
"Very well, lovie, if that's the way you feel about it…" He lifted the girl up and threw her onto the bed. Ginger did a somersault and landed feet-up against the wall. She scrambled back onto her feet and stared coldly at the chuckling mouse.
"My sincere apologies, Lady Hensaw," he crooned sarcastically as he flicked a switch on the wall. As soon as the switch was pulled, bars sprung from the floor, making the bed into a prison. Ginger threw herself against the bars.
"I HATE YOU!!!" she shrieked. "I hate you, Bert Feesley!!!! I hate you more than I could ever hate anything else in the whole WORLD!!!! And when I find my daddy, I'm going to tell him what you did to me and he'll…"
"He'll **what**, lovie?" Feesley grinned. "Run for the great master detective? Cry like a little girl?" He laughed cruelly. "Your daddy's no better than a traitorous slug." He turned and marched from the room.
As soon as he was gone, Ginger tore off most of her fancy costume. When she managed to get her clothing down to a corset and a pair of frilly long underwear, she easily slipped out through the bars. The temptation to follow Feesley and give him a piece of her mind (and her fist) was terrible, but there were more pressing matters at hand. Without thinking the matter over twice, Ginger disappeared behind the same curtain Feesley had been hiding behind holding a dagger to her back.
***
Auburn was brought once again before his boss. Ratigan grinned down mockingly from his throne.
"Poor Auburn. Has your lovely daughter gotten used to high society already?"
Auburn cringed under the laughter of Douglas and Alfred, but said nothing.
"Well," Ratigan continued, "I suppose you'll be taking your leave of this place now. That is what you wanted, isn't it? To go? You're free to."
But to Ratigan's surprise, Auburn shook his head. "No," he said. "I never wanted to leave. I wanted Ginger to be happy." He sighed. "You've made her happy. I'm only glad I can still be near her, even if she can't stand the sight of me. I'll just… get back to work now." Auburn turned to go, but Ratigan snapped his fingers and the way was blocked once more by Douglas and Alfred. Auburn glanced over his shoulder.
"You have proven yourself beyond my expectations, Auburn." Ratigan's eyes betrayed for once a spark of unclouded feeling, as if he almost regretted having to test his loyal assistant in such a way. But the spark lived only a moment. "You will not go unrewarded," he said, drawing himself up to his full height.
Auburn nodded weakly and brushed past the two thugs. They growled softly, but they had no command from their boss, and so remained standing where they were. Ratigan watched Auburn dejectedly push the door open and shuffle out of the room.
***
The secret passageways that ran throughout every tunnel and building Ratigan called his lair were well-known to Ginger. She had spent many hours exploring them. Now that she had escaped from her prison, it was only a matter of running. Fortunately, running was one of Ginger's best talents.
Her plan was to find her father. He would know what to do. Ginger decided to look for him in Ratigan's throne room, thinking that naturally Ratigan would want to witness firsthand what damage he had done to his servant. With her speed and knowledge of the secret tunnels, it was a matter of minutes before Ginger was approaching the entrance to the throne room. With only a little ways left to go, however, she quite literally ran into an unexpected obstacle.
Two hands grabbed her from behind as she passed a branch in the tunnel. She struggled fiercely, but the hands held tight over her mouth, so she couldn't scream.
"Hush!" the mouse snapped under his breath. "Ginger, be quiet! I'm here to help you!"
Ginger twisted around in the dark, trying to free herself from her enemy's hold. He took his hands from her mouth so she could speak.
"You'll never help me, you ugly rat!" she hissed.
"Ginger, your father…"
"What did you do with him?!" the girl demanded, finally freeing herself from the stranger's grip. She spun around and glared at him. In the darkness she could see only a tall, thin shadow. "Bert Feesley!" she gasped, backing away.
"Who?" Basil said. "Oh it doesn't matter. Come on, we've got to get you out of this place!"
"NO! My father is still here, and I'm going to find him!" She turned and started running. Basil set off in pursuit, but she was fast and got ahead of him quickly.
"Ginger!" Basil called after her. "Your father doesn't want you to live his life!" But by the time he got the words out, she was out of sight. Basil snarled a curse under his breath and scuttled back the way he had come.
Meanwhile, Ginger kept running as fast as she could. It was not until she reached a dead end that she realized she was lost. Frightened and alone, she tried to go back and retrace her steps. She only succeeded in hitting another dead end.
"Don't panic," she said to herself. "At least I got away…" She sat down in the tunnel and leaned against the wall. A candle against the wall burned above her head, casting a dim yellow light over the stone walls. The words of the strange mouse still echoed in her ears. 'Your father doesn't want you!' he had yelled. Ginger took a deep breath to calm herself.
"That can't be true," she murmured. "Why would he not want me… unless… unless he thought I meant all that stuff Bert Feesley made me say! Oh no!!" Her wide hazel eyes filled with tears. "Well there's no reason for me to find my way back now, is there? I'll just stay lost and make everybody the happier for it!"
Ginger curled up against the dank wall, surrendering herself to her own misery. But she wasn't there long before yet another strange voice came to her through the halls.
"Ginger, get up luv."
"Go away!" Ginger sobbed. "I'm not coming back!"
"Come on, sweetie, your father's waiting for you."
"No he isn't! He doesn't want me anymore! I'm a horrible, horrible person, just like Bert Feesley and the Professor!" She curled up tighter, clutching her tail. "Leave me alone!"
But the voice persisted. The woman, for it was a woman's voice, gave a bubbly, far-away laugh and said, "Your father loves you, Ginger. He loves you more than anything in the world. That's why he had Basil bring you away from here. He wants you to be happy." Ginger felt a soft hand on her shoulder. She looked around and found herself staring at what might have been a ghostly reflection of her own face, pale as chalk but with the same half-smile and round hazel eyes.
"Who are you?" Ginger asked shakily.
"My name is Argentina," said the woman. "I'm a… friend of your father. Now dry your eyes and follow me. Your father misses you."
The white mouse reached out and took Ginger's hands. She playfully lifted the child high above the ground and swung her forward. Ginger giggled with delight.
"I like you, Argentina," she said. "Will you come and be my mother?"
The white mouse swished her tail, and Ginger noticed the beautiful tuft of long white fur at the end of it. She smiled, but an expression of pain came across the woman's face.
"I cannot stay with you long," she said softly. "I have… pressing business. Elsewhere. Far away."
"Will you come back?" Ginger asked anxiously.
"I might, little one. I might."
Ginger smiled. "Oh good." She took the woman's hand and let her lead the way.